


Maybe it will be Better in the Morning

by ShyCourage



Series: My love, the song you have sung [4]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: And I'm hurting string bean son too, I am, I'm so sorry, M/M, Near Death Experiences, SO SORRY, Self-Hatred, So so sorry, These poor boys, This is the worst thing I've ever done, please take away my writing privileges, this whole thing hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 09:10:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19664287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyCourage/pseuds/ShyCourage
Summary: Laslow almost died. At least he woke up.Alternatively: Xander worries for 500+ words and I wrote the longest oneshot I ever have





	Maybe it will be Better in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> This is the ouchiest so far in a series of ouch. I'm so sorry.

Xander hadn't left Laslow's side in the past week. He hadn't eaten in the past three days. He was slowly worrying himself to death. 

Xander knew his husband's past. Well, some of it. Laslow- Inigo, sorry, that's what he preferred- had told him. There were things he obviously left out, things he brushed over, but Xander knew most of it. He knew of Laslow's fear of losing his loved ones. He knew, also, his fear of having to die for them, because he knew how much dealing with that hurt. Xander knew.

So why did he do it? Why would he jump in front of that sword? Of course Xander knew the answer. He knew that he would do the same for their darling Soleil, or for Siegbert. But why was it Laslow, the one who feared this the most, who was forced to make this decision? Why did fate enjoy playing with his husband like this?

Soleil was beating herself up over this, too. She may not have inherited Laslow's shyness, but she did inherit his insecurities, and his tendency for self hatred. She blamed herself. She was busy running herself ragged, trying to get stronger so she wasn't the reason he got hurt again.

And Siegbert. Poor, poor Siegbert. Siegbert, ever the pillar, just like Xander. He had no idea what happened, because both Soleil and Xander closed themselves off, but he knew his dad was hurt, he knew he wasn't waking up, and he was trying to take care of everyone despite it. He had just tried to get Xander to eat something, or take a nap, for the third time today, and now he was surely trying to get his sister to go to bed. She might actually listen to him.

Xander continued pacing, back and forth, back and forth, window to bed, bed to window, window to bed again. Laslow hadn't waken in the past week, and the longer he was out the less chance he had to wake up. Xander should be bracing himself for the worst, at this point, so he could be strong for their kids when it happened, so he didn't leave Siegbert to be the adult when he was far too young to be, but he couldn't. He couldn't admit to himself that his husband would probably die.

Laslow was probably going to die. Xander blinked back tears at this thought, trying to push it away for a minute or so, before he realized that it was probably the truth. His husband, the brightest part of his day, the smirk and flirty wink when his day had been all paperwork, the dance in the moonlight, was probably going to die. Xander finally cried. He finally, truly let the flood gates open. He sat in his chair, and he sobbed.

Laslow had been unconscious for a week and a day, slowly growing more pale, losing muscle tone, his hair becoming more strawlike. Even if he woke up, he had a long road to recovery. He had been through so much, he didn't need this too. 

He had said, in a moment of lucidity, when Xander was carrying him back to the infirmary, that Soleil would never forgive him. He said that she would hate him until the day she died, even if she ever came to terms with what he did. He said she would hate him, and so would Siegbert, and "so will you, Xander. So will you. You'll hate me forever, you'll never be able to forgive me. And I'll deserve it." He passed out for the last time, after that.

Xander wished he could say that he didn't hate Laslow, but, in that moment, sobbing while holding his hand, sleep deprived and hungry and worried, so, so worried, he did. He hated Laslow, Inigo, whatever his husband's name was. He felt bad, yes, but he hated him regardless. He would die, and leave Xander here, with two broken kids and a broken country to piece together, and Xander hated him for it.

He was crying so hard that he missed the little cough, the tiny squeeze of his hand. He wasn't crying so hard, however, that he missed what Laslow said.

"What's wrong, dearest? Come now, turn that frown upside down," Laslow croaked, his voice rusty from lack of use. He reached over, wiping away Xander's tears.

Xander's head snapped up so fast it almost cracked. "You- You're awake! Laslow…"

Xander leaned over and hugged him, as gentle as he could, still shaking with sobs. Laslow tried to comfort him, whispering quiet nonsense in his ear, hugging him back. When Xander finally pulled back, he saw that Laslow was crying too.

"I'm sorry, Xander," he breathed, the words barely falling from his lips, "I'm so sorry. You have no idea… I had to save her. She's our daughter, she deserves her chance. I knew I would hurt all of you. I knew it, I know that you're mad at me. I know that Soleil won't want to talk to me for days, maybe weeks. I know how much I scared you, I know-" His voice cracked, his slight frame wracked with silent, dry sobs. He shook, as fragile as a dead fall leaf, his guilt a tangible thing, ripping him apart piece by piece.

Xander shook his head, the tear tracks down his cheeks renewing themselves as he reached for a cup of water and helped Laslow drink. "You didn't scare me, you terrified me. Soleil… she blames herself, you know. And Siegbert, poor Siegbert, has been trying to keep it together." Xander shook his head, sitting by Laslow, setting the cup back in it's place once he was done drinking.

Laslow shook harder, burying his head in-between Xander's body and the bed, unable to even look at his husband.

"Laslow. We were all so scared. You almost died. I won't tell you what that did to me, or the kids, because you already know. But look," he slid off the bed, taking Laslow's chin amd gently forcing him to look at Xander, "Inigo. I don't blame you for what you did. I would have done the same thing. You survived. And I give all of my thanks for that."

Laslow shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed. "You might have done the same thing, but Xander, I almost-" he cut himself off with a sob. "I almost did to you what my father did to my mother. I almost hurt the children the way my mother hurt me. Oh gods, Xander, what if I did? What if they hate me? Xander, I love them so much…" 

Xander hugged Laslow. "They won't. They love you too, you know this." 

Laslow opened his eyes, probably about to argue further, but noticed how tired Xander looked. "How long have you been awake?"

"A week. As long as you've been out."

Of course. He looked exhausted. "Well then. Come here. Sleep with me. I promise I'll wake up this time."

Xander searched Laslow's face before climbing into bed with him. They could talk to the kids when he woke up, tell everyone that Laslow was alive and awake when he woke up. For now, the two of them could revel in this moment of calm, and maybe things would be better in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> *sobbing in my corner*
> 
> As always, kudos, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated!


End file.
